What if Shiori Lost Her Voice

A 30-minute drive to home has never felt so long and draining. In fact, it is not just this drive, the last several weeks felt slow, in a way that reminds me of how those gigantic land tortoises walk. They take those jittery steps only after long uncomfortable pauses and make a harsh scratching noise on the ground due to bearing the weight of the enormous shells full of cracks and dust.

I can see Shiori in the back row from the rearview mirror, her head lowered, hiding her eyes behind the front hair. She always sat in the back when we went to routine check-ups after the vocal chord surgery last month, perhaps as a reluctant display of her unwillingness to go to the hospital, or rejection of whatever the doctor had written in the prescription that lays in the normal seat she used to occupy. As our house appears in the view, I take a deep breath and start to ponder how I should remind Shiori that we have arrived. As I learned last weekend, saying anything out loud, even something as harmless as "Shiorin we are home", was enough to send her into a frenzy. Understandable I suppose, if my voice were to be taken away so abruptly. No, I shouldn't think that way. I despise that train of thought; it felt condescending, with the undertone that I wouldn't have made such a big fuss about it. Who am I to judge what a reasonable reaction should be? Making up my plan to simply open the door for her without saying anything, I park the car onto the driveway.

Clunk. To my surprise, Shiori got out of the car herself. I can hear her storming out to the house, with her boots making a series of dull metallic clacks when coming into contact with the pavement. It did not sound right. Every step sounds like she has slammed an invisible door shut between her and the world, between her and me. I quickly follow her to the house. Shiori rushes straight to her streaming room, takes off the microphone from the boom arm, and smashes it onto the ground.

It is not until now that I can fully see her face. Her normally bright and clear eyes are now covered in a red tinted veil of disbelief, anger, and defeat. Tears roll down her cheek, leaving a trail of reflections on her already pale skin, making it feel almost translucent, and finally finding their way to the white ribbon on her dress. Before Shiori can reach for another thing to throw, I stop her and embrace her in my arms. I hold her, like a scoop of water while running on sand; like a small flame in the midst of wind; like something that once I lose grip of, would be gone forever. She is trembling. I can feel the ups and downs of her chest as she tries to breathe in air while sobbing uncontrollably. She is like a broken record machine, with her fingers on my back being the worn out needles that scratched, scarred, and sank into the grooves of reality with undiscriminating force, and yet unable to sing out a single note. We just hug each other, gradually drowning in the viscous, bottomless pond of silence.

Shiori, finally exhausted, leans her head on my shoulder and shifts her weight onto me. She could really use some rest now. I carefully bend down, bridal carrying her to the bedroom, and gently lay my princess down. She seems to be fast asleep, which is fortunate. Sitting down beside her, I stroke away at her now all messed up hair. Her hair has almost turned entirely white. Even though I know that was just the hair dye fading away, it still feels insufferable. It is as if the Shiori I know is being erased, strand by strand, by something, by nothingness. Suddenly I catch a glimpse of her lips moving. Even with the slightest movements, even though she probably is just unconsciously muttering, even though she once convinced me with a long lecture on how lip reading is but faux science, I have been on the receiving end of that exact sequence of syllables so many times that I instantly recognize what Shiori is trying to say. A bittersweet relief strikes me and I whisper back the same words:

"Love Forever."

Greentext Version:

What if Shiori Lost Her Voice
A 30-minute-wait have never felt so long for you before.
At last, you saw Shiori dragging her feet out of the doctor's office. She walked towards you with her head down, hiding her eyes behind the front hair.
Instead of stopping, she hurried right past you and dragged you forcibly towards the elevator.
Neither of you emitted a sound on the drive back.
You weren't sure what to say. Shiori, however, hasn't been able to speak for quite a few weeks since the surgery on her vocal chord.
As soon as you arrived home, Shiori again rushed out, this time into the house.
You quickly followed, just in time to see Shiori smashing her streaming microphone onto the floor.
Her normally bright eyes are now covered in a red tinted veil of disappointment, anger, and defeat.
Tears rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail of reflections before finally finding their way to the white ribbon on her dress.
Shiori reached for her work phone and just before she could throw it towards the wall, you stopped her and embraced her into your arms.
She was trembling. You could feel the ups and downs of her chest as Shiori tried to breathe in air while sobbing uncontrollably.
She was like a broken record machine, with her fingers being the worn out needles that scratched, scarred, and sank into your back with undiscriminating force, and yet unable to sing out a single note.
You just held her, sinking along with her into the bottomless pond of silence.
Shiori, finally exhausted, leaned her head fully onto your shoulder with her eyes closed.
She could really use some rest now, you thought, whatever the doctor said can wait another day.
You carefully bent down, bridal carried Shiori into the bedroom, and gently laid your princess down.
She seemed to be fast asleep, which is fortunate. You sat beside her, stroking away at her now all messed up hair.
Her hair had almost turned entirely white. Even though you know that was just the hair dye falling off, it still feels insufferable. It is as if you are losing Shiori, strand by strand, to something, to nothingness.
Suddenly, you caught a glimpse of her lips moving.
Even with the slightest movements, even though she probably was just unconsciously muttering, you have been on the receiving end of that exact sequence of syllables so many times that you instantly recognize what Shiori is saying to you.
You felt a bittersweet relief and whispered to Shiori the exact same words:
"Love Forever."